The Meaning Of Life Is Sarcasm
by loverofeevee
Summary: Introducing, Harry Potter, master of sarcastic wit. Well he thinks so at least, not like his life so far has given him anything else to look forward to. I say complete, but I might change it from one shot to proper story. One day, maybe. Rated for some language.
1. The Meaning Of Life Is Sarcasm

The Meaning Of Life Is Sarcasm

Harry sat in the furthest compartment of the train he could find empty, idly gazing out the window and contemplating what he'd learned.

Quite simply, this wizarding world was full of fools, and judging by the kids he'd already met, the fools were passing on their genes quite nicely.

It didn't really bother Harry, after all he'd lived with fools most of his life.

OOO

Very early on in life, he'd learned to be prepared. It was pretty much his motto now. Whenever he learned something new, he learned it properly. No half arsed methods. He could cook to perfection; do the gardening and the chores perfectly. Only a couple of times, when he was young, did he make mistakes. He paid for them dearly.

At school for example, when he first arrived he naively thought here was a place he could make some friends and actually be praised for doing good.

Petunia took a screeching fit when he came home with full marks on a test. Not so much that he had full marks, but that he had more marks than her precious Duddykins.

When Vernon heard about it…

Harry still had the scars. Harry hadn't been prepared. He'd been foolish, thinking all would be fine when he came back all smiles and hope. The next day at school, Dudley chased off any potential friends, and that was that. A dream crushed.

So Harry was prepared. And this new situation was no different.

Hagrid was a nice enough man, err giant, err half man half giant, what the heck was he?! Anyway he was nice enough, bashing in doors and threatening Vernon aside, but Harry felt the man really wasn't the best person to tell him about this new world.

So Harry did what he usually did, he learned.

In Gringotts he got some information from the Goblins, such things as conversion rates; what else Gringotts could do for the average witch or wizard; did Harry have any other vaults; did he have any assets besides money; did his parents leave a will.

Normal things one usually asks in regards to their finances.

The answers were rather depressing. Five pound to a galleon, twenty nine pence to a sickle, and a penny to a knut. Seventeen sickles in a galleon twenty nine knuts in a sickle. Gringotts dealt only with money, whatever assets the witch or wizard put in their vault was of no concern to the goblins. They did however do "other" things, for a fee.

Harry didn't really want to ask, but because he was curious as hell he did he anyway. Thankfully the goblin meant that, provided they got paid, the goblins could pretty much do anything a witch or wizard asked. Want to buy a house, pay the goblins they will find or even build a mansion. Want certain potions ingredients for some illegal potion, pay the goblins they will make it for you. Want someone "out of the way" pay the goblins and body bits would wind up on the black market in Knockturn, at least the bits the goblins won't eat. Yuck.

Yeah, so essentially they only dealt in money, but once they got that money they dealt in pretty much everything else. Ask the right questions, get the right answers.

Harry did not have any other vaults. He had a grand total of one destroyed cottage, one destroyed manor, a couple of bits and pieces of no real value currently hidden at the back of the vault, and an invisibility cloak which was lost to the world. Bugger! And if his parents did leave a will they did not leave it at Gringotts.

Fair enough, he supposed.

It wasn't all bad, the money he did have added up to around two hundred and fifty thousand galleons.

Two hundred and fifty thou…*insert pleasurable sigh*

What kid wouldn't goggle at that kind of money?! Boy did that not make the eleven year old's head spin.

He clearly had enough to graduate Hogwarts and live fairly comfortably, oh who was he kidding extremely comfortably for a few years afterwards.

After gathering around two hundred galleons, a handful of sickles and knuts, and about a hundred galleons to be converted into muggle money, he was off to buy his school supplies.

Hogwarts Robes x 3 14 Galleons 2 Sickles

Hogwarts Hat 3 Galleons 7 Sickles

Dragon Hide Gloves 3 Galleons 11 Sickles

Winter Cloak 8 Galleons 14 Sickles

Pewter Cauldron 15 Galleons

Crystal Phials 7 Galleons

Telescope 5 Galleons

Brass Scales 3 Galleons

The Standard Book Of Spells Grade 1 1 Galleon

A History Of Magic 2 Galleons

Magical Theory 2 Galleons

A Beginner's Guide To Transfiguration 1 Galleon

One Thousand Magical Herbs And Fungi 2 Galleons

Magical Drafts And Potions 2 Galleons

Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them 2 Galleons

The Dark Forces: A Guide To Self Protection 1 Galleon

Seventy three galleons, not including his wand and things not on the list like a trunk, school bag and writing utensils. And uniforms. Did they expect students to wear whatever underneath their robes, or nothing at all?!

That was a horrifying thought.

Harry took the lack of stationary listed to mean he could at least buy some cheap black pens. The clothes though. Seriously, the equivalent of seventeen quid for a pointy hat! What the hell was it dripping in gold or something?!

Actually, come to think of it, didn't Dudley have one of those in his second room? God knows why Vernon and Petunia hadn't thrown it out, or burnt it yet, considering how much they hated the idea of magic.

Oh wait, so that's where that hatred of him came from. Well he would happily take the hat off their hands.

Harry had scratched it off his list. The robes proved to be worth the money, as they were charmed in various ways. Warming charms, mild self repairing charms, things like that came as standard. And he really had nothing to base the dragon hide gloves off of, dragon hide, actual dragon hide, awesome, so he didn't bother grumbling about the price of them. The winter cloak was a joke though, it looked exactly the same as the robes, just heavier with a bit of bling. Nearly forty four quid!

Basically he was paying for the little silver thing that held the cloak together. Did the cloak need it, no, did he need it, no, did he have to get it? Unfortunately yes, such a thing would be hard to find in the muggle world, so in the pile it went.

While he was there he checked out the price of the school uniforms, and while he knew he could get the trousers, shorts and tie cheaper in the muggle world, he added a few blazers to the lot. The whole warming charm was on them as well, so why not. He went to add a hat; scarf and glove set, but changed his mind on the price. Another thing he could get cheaply elsewhere.

Seriously what was with all these crazy prices?! Not everything had spells on them! And were spells really that expensive?!

With his clothing seen to, some of it anyway, next stop was the potions place, where he asked the guy at the counter what the deal was with the whole glass vs crystal thing. The man assured him that crystal would be better in pretty much every way, though personally Harry thought they were ripping kids off. But he didn't argue, after all potions was different from science in a way, at least he thought it was, so crystal instead of glass must have been done for a reason.

The tiny pewter cauldrons sitting amongst the huge gold and silver ones were given a bemused look before one was added to the pile, and there were no real complaints about the scales, they were just typical brass scales, with weights and everything. Bit old fashioned, but whatever. Harry had noticed some kids getting kits and asked about it, eventually being talked into buying one himself. It included a couple of knives and cutting boards, a small bunsen burner and stand, a mortar and pestle, a wooden stirrer and some basic ingredients.

Worth the galleons Harry spent on it he felt, though to ensure he had more than enough he picked up some more ingredients as well. He also added a set of timers to his mental shopping list for the muggle side as there seemed to be no way of knowing how long a potion had been bubbling for. What, did they have to count in their heads or something?

At Harry's insistence the next stop was a place that did trunks, where he got a fairly standard one with a little extra space inside than out.

Wizard space was pretty neat.

It cost him twenty five galleons, with a feather light and auto locking charm added included, handy for pesky Dursleys, and he picked up a feather light spelled satchel while he was there, rounding it up to thirty.

After dumping his stuff inside, and with Hagrid kindly carrying the trunk for him, they then went to the book shop. The books on the list came to thirteen galleons, and to ensure he was prepared for this new world, he added a few more to the pile. A couple on the general history of the magical world, one on politics which he almost ignored were it not for him witnessing two men acting very much like the snobbish nobles of old. He also noted that the standard book of spells had books from year one to year seven, and after checking with Hagrid he figured he might as well get them now and save time. He did spot a potions book that appeared to go into further detail than the one on his list, so at the last minute that was added too.

Next was stationary, and at the shop keeper's insistence Harry bought a whole heap of parchment, and a couple of quills and the smallest bottle of ink they had to keep the man happy. He also bought a nifty penknife, which apparently students were allowed to file down their quills.

Lovely, allowing an actual weapon at a school. Wait, did wands count as weapons?

As the guy explained, it was traditional to use quills, ink and parchment at Hogwarts, though what a student did outside of class was their own business. Harry could only wonder if it was so traditional when why weren't they on the damn list. He was still going to buy the pens, and plenty of notebooks. If the teachers complained, well to hell with them. He'd turn in homework on parchment, him taking notes on paper with pen was doing no harm.

And so finally, he went to get his wand. He left about an hour later with a seven galleon holly and phoenix feather combination, a holster and polishing kit, and an odd sense of awe. Not so much the story about his wand being nearly the same as his parent's murderer, that was ominous, but at Ollivander and his spooky behaviour.

Harry really needed to learn how to stare at people like that, it was brilliantly creepy.

While he was trying wands, Hagrid had apparently decided little Harry needed a companion, and so Harry was presented with a cage holding a, he had to admit, gorgeous looking snowy owl.

She sooo did not fit his style though, plus the whole thing with the Dursleys trying to kill her if they ever saw her, that was until she all but attacked him the moment he opened the cage. After showing her appreciation for being let out, Hagrid's words not Harry's, she perched herself on his shoulder, digging her claws in a bit and giving him the evil eye, but otherwise keeping to herself.

It was the first laugh Harry had had in ages, even if she had left blood trails. A bird after his own cynical heart, and given the glare she'd probably rip out the Dursleys eyes if they tried anything. Perfect. He promptly named her Hedwig after some warrior out the history book he'd skimmed.

He got a steely look and an honest to god shrug, and that was that.

OOO

So here he was, sitting alone wishing the rest of the magical world would leave him be for one damn minute.

Harry sighed as yet another student clocked him and stood staring. Why couldn't these compartments have curtains?! Why hadn't he worn his damn hat?!

Sod it. Giving the idiot a glare he opened his trunk and rummaged through.

OOO

Hagrid had left him after being assured he knew how to get home.

Hedwig decided she would find him later, and took to the air. Harry would later find her camping outside the Dursley house, munching on a mouse.

A self reliant pet, now that was appreciated. Though it meant the cage was useless. He figured a pawn shop would take it for a couple of quid.

Harry did, after noticing the weird platform number on his train ticket, have to ask Hagrid how to get onto the platform, and where it was for that matter. It was one thing to say between platforms nine and ten, but there were several columns in that stretch. He knew, he'd seen them on a field trip with his class. After finally getting the answer he watched Hagrid leave, then headed towards the nearest supermarket. With money in his pocket he went on a seriously overdue spending spree. Chucking a couple of packets of pens and plenty of notepads into his trolley, he made a quick detour to pick up a set of egg timers from the home department, then headed straight to the clothing area. He spent quite some time there, ensuring he had a proper wardrobe worth of clothes to call his own. From underwear to shoes, he bought the lot.

Oh the embarrassment he felt when the cute shop assistant asked his size. Thankfully she didn't make a fuss over him not knowing, and they did eventually figure out what size of clothing he would need to buy.

He didn't really have a sense of style. Well, unless scruffy street rat was considered a style. He wanted one though, and felt clothing that fitted his personality would be best.

At around the same time Harry learned his life motto, he also became quite bitter with the world in general. He learned a few swear words, became sarcastic, refused point blank to have his hair cut, allowing it to grow just a tiny bit long, just to around his shoulders.

Certainly helped get rid of the rats nest it used to be.

He couldn't exactly be described as depressed, though considering his childhood he very well could have been, but the term goth did fit him quite well, so he chose mainly black clothing, with some other colours thrown in for good measure. His trousers were all black, some jeans, some leather. Once he found his size, he all but checked out the entire stock of black shirts. He did spot a few t-shirts with funny or insulting messages on them, and since they were in dark reds or greens he added them as well. Then some jumpers, a cool deep purple one and a navy blue hoodie, and of course a black hoodie as well. His shiny new black shoes had a slight heel and some metal buckles, not quite clunky but not quite sleek either. A bit of a blend of the two styles. He checked how comfortable they were, and added two pairs to the pile. He chose boxers rather than briefs, all black, and black socks to match, though he did spot one red pair with the words "piss off" on one and "piss on" on the other and threw them in for a laugh.

A hat, scarf and pair of gloves were thrown into the trolley, alongside a plain black tie, and Harry looked at the other clothing available.

He probably didn't need swimming trunks, couldn't swim for one thing, and if he had a winter cloak, charmed to be waterproof, then he surely wouldn't need a jacket or an umbrella.

Oh wait, the summer, his relatives would kill him if he wore a cloak; he added a long black trench coat to the pile, not much different but it was a coat not a robe so screw the Dursleys, and found a black umbrella to match. Oh what the hell, a pair of trunks and some goggles wouldn't break the bank; he would have to learn eventually. Now what else would he need?

Harry eyed the sports gear, deciding it was worth while picking out some joggers and a pair of trainers. Did he want pyjamas, or stick with boxers? Better make it pyjamas, he would likely be sharing a dorm room, no need to catch him with his pants down. He looked for black, but there was none to be found. Resigned he ran his hands down the rack, picking out around seven sets of whatever felt comfortable and didn't look ridiculous.

Now then, accessories. A belt was good, belts were handy, and not just for leathering people like Vernon's. Ooh, shiny black one with silver buckles, that'll do. A wallet, always useful, even if he did have his money bag from Gringotts. A hat? Well…

Harry remembered the crowds rushing at him, grabbing his hands, staring at his scar…

He picked up a simple black, slightly French style cap.

And that was it, now while he was here did he need anything else? Anything at all?

Toiletries, alrighty then. Harry found the aisle and chucked in the usual toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, comb and whatnot. Things he didn't actually own, mostly borrowed from the Dursleys. So what else was new? While he was there he clocked the towels, and threw one of the large ones in as well, and a smaller one for the heck of it. Ok, now did he need anything else?

Harry grinned, heading for the preserved food isle, making a note to pick up a can opener on the way.

He was glad he took out the equivalent of five hundred pound from Gringotts, he darn near used it all up. About forty quid left in his pocket, Harry headed home with a trunk stuffed full. His trunk gathered a fair bit of attention, though he was able to tell pretty much the truth and say he was heading to a boarding school to stave off any awkward questions.

Seeing the Dursleys again was an event and a half. How in the world did they get back from the shack?!

Petunia had promptly screamed at him, Vernon had threatened, and Dudley lay stomach down on the couch, whimpering around a large lollypop, with a big bandage round his bum.

Aww…does wittle Duddydinkums need a treat to make the owie go away?

Harry had heard it all before, though he was surprised they finally moved him out the cupboard into the broken toy room as he dubbed it.

And they tried to take his stuff! His stuff! His precious!

Harry hinted at the possibility of someone watching the house, and how suspicious it would be if he hadn't at least looked at the books before coming to school, and how he now had a magic wand that could do magic spells and cause magic problems, and the Dursleys backed off. He smirked with Petunia spent the next few days alternating between nervously peering out the windows, and nervously peering at him.

Vernon was funnier, he glared at every bush, every tree, until even the neighbours thought he was barmy. Though he at least was wise enough to keep his distance from Harry.

Harry spent the rest of that day sorting his things, and the next day carting all the junk in the room to the loft. Thankfully the Dursleys had gone to get Dudley's tail seen to, oink oink, so they weren't there to yell at him for touching their Duddykin's stuff.

Not that Harry wanted any of it, it was all broken in some way or other. Besides the hat which he found under a pile of old smelly clothes, and made a point to throw in the washing machine, no way he was shoving that on his head until it was cleansed.

If he had holy water he would have used it.

Since he had his trunk there was no need for the wardrobe, but the desk was handy, and the bed was a big step up compared to the tiny cot in the cupboard, even if it was a bit rickety. And so he settled down, cracked open his books, and got to learning and preparing for this new world.

OOO

Harry finally found his hat, jamming it firmly on his head, and a book, and a bottle of coke to drink while reading. Would have been slightly warm by now had he not had the brainwave of buying a cool bag. He'd already tried some of the sweets from the cart, that was after he'd driven off an obnoxious fool who tried to cosy up to his fame.

Not gonna happen.

Sweets were pretty good, though he lost one frog when it jumped out the window. Actually hoped on up and jumped. Suicidal chocolate frog, that was a new one on Harry. Cards from the frog boxes were pretty cool as well, though the image never stayed in the picture long. Weird.

He'd also had a visit from a nervous wreck of a boy looking for a toad, a truly bossy girl looking for the same toad, who wouldn't bloody leave when he said no, and an arrogant sod with matching bookends who tried to puff himself up for the cameras.

He called for daddy when it didn't work, Harry thought it was hilarious.

That was all within the first half hour of the train moving. So far no one else had visited, thank all that was holy, and he was able to read in peace. Well mostly, provided he could ignore the stares from outside.

He really should have worn his bloody hat before he got on the train, now everyone knew who he was!

'Croak'

'The hell?!'

He peered under the seat, and lo and behold there was that blasted toad the pair were looking for.

'Couldn't you have done that when they were in here?!'

'Croak'

Harry sighed, he was talking to a toad, oh well, when in Rome.

'Alright fine, so you didn't want them finding you. Good thing Hedwig's not here, that crazy owl would gulp you down in one go'.

She'd taken the high road and flew to Hogwarts. Most likely she'd get there before him.

'Croak!'

'Whatever. Look you might as well come up here. I'll wind up forgetting you're there and step on you on the way out otherwise'.

The toad, what was his name again, took his words to heart and hopped up onto the seat, then onto his arm, then onto his lap where it made itself quite comfortable.

'What am I, a pillow?!'

'Croak'.

'Tisk!'

Smart little bugger. Harry couldn't say he was bothered either way, so the pair settled down for the rest of the trip.

OOO

' _The train will be at Hogsmeade in ten minutes. All students should be changed into school uniform before the train has stopped. Please leave all luggage on the train, it will be taken to Hogwarts separately'._

'Thanks creepy voice from above, already sorted'

When the train finally stopped, and boy wasn't that a long trip surely there was a faster way to get to school, Harry looked longingly at his trunk, then sighed and left it behind, grabbing the toad on the way.

'Croak!'

'Well where else are you going to go? I ain't leaving you here to be eaten by one of the other pets'.

Harry clocked Hagrid almost immediately, not that it was hard, joining the others to be led down a slippery, muddy path (his new shoes!) to the boats.

Boats, really?!

'NO MORE THAN FOUR TAE A BOAT!'

Meh. Harry got in one, let it fill with three others without comment, and after everyone was seated Hagrid gave a shout and off they went.

Magic boats, why not.

The others tried to get a conversation flowing, but Harry couldn't really bothered. He was sleepy, he was grumpy, but most of all he was hungry. The sight of the castle thankfully took their attention away, Harry had to admit it was impressive.

Wonder if it had real dungeons?

The boats docked and off they got, following Hagrid up some stairs into a large room, where they were given a lecture by a woman calling herself McGonagall.

Basic stuff really, do good and be rewarded, do bad and be punished, four houses and seven years to learn to play nice with your fellow students.

She left to do whatever and Harry was given a solid lesson on how kids here played nice with each other.

Note the sarcasm.

Arrogant blondie threw a few insults, obnoxious redhead responded to said insults, and bossy can't help but stick her nose in.

At least the rest kept quiet, well besides the gasps and screams when the ghosts appeared, but who could blame them on that one.

Cool though, actual ghosts in a school.

Oh great, here comes arrogant for round two.

'Please Malfoy! I already told you I don't want your girl scout cookies!'

Some of the group tittered, muggleborn and half blood probably. From what he'd read the magical world was way waay behind the muggle.

'Huh?! I don't have any cookies! And I'm not a girl!'

Blondie didn't get the joke. Theory about backwards society confirmed.

'Good one mate!'

And there was obnoxious.

'Here, this place got a lost and found so I can send him over. He's clearly lost his marbles'.

More titters, at least some of them had sense.

'I haven't lost anything! What are marbles?'

*Sigh* It was hard being a comic genius.

'Harry stop being so rude, you'll get in trouble and it's not even been one day!'

Urh! So annoying!

'Why is it my fault tweedledum and tweedledee can't take the hint?! Go tell them off!'

Titters for the third time, Harry was on fiiearr!

Seriously these three were getting on his nerves. He had a better standing with the damn toad!

Speaking of which, he had to give the thing back to nervous guy.

'Hey nerv…err never did remember your name. Long something?'

'N…Neville Longbottom'.

'Right, Longbottom'.

Harry brought the toad out.

'TA DA!'

'TREVOR!'

Oh so that's what the toad's name was.

'He was under the…err that is I found him when I got off the train'.

No need to make bossy, who was already giving him the evil eye for trying to fob her off, more annoyed at him for not checking the compartment properly. To his defence, he had given the area a brief glance, and Trevor hadn't come in the compartment since the train started.

Come to think of it, did that mean he was in there the entire time?

Harry peered at the toad, who gave an idle croak. Was that thing a ninja toad?

' _Teenage mutant ninja turtles…'_

Oh wait they were turtles, damn!

Come to think of it even more, with bossy, obnoxious and arrogant, he might as well be back with the Dursleys.

Please don't let them be in the same house Harry thought as professor McGonagall returned and led them inside. Didn't those candles drip wax over everything?

Aw well, buck up, chin up, you're learning magic. Welcome to the magic world!

If this place didn't have pizza he was walking back out that damn door.


	2. Sarcasm Meets Insanity

Sarcasm Meets Insanity

It was official, the fates hated him.

Harry was lying in between nervous guy and obnoxious, trying desperately to get some sleep.

How did the others do it?! Obnoxious sounded like chainsaws, attached to a jetfighter, flying in a howling blizzard.

In short, Harry would be lucky to get an hour's worth of sleep tonight, and for the next seven bloody years!

There had to be a spell that would shut out the noise, or shut the idiot up.

How did he get here again, the hat all but told him he'd be going into Slytherin, then suddenly BAM, he was stuck in Gryffindor.

Don't get him wrong, Gryffindor wasn't bad. His other room mates were ok, nervous guy, footy mad guy, and guy who would probably grow up to be a pervert judging by the posters above his bed. Really though, slap two lumps of flesh onto a chest, call them boobies and the boys all go mad.

And he couldn't really complain about the rest of his housemates.

Ok he could, but that was besides the point. He was in the same house as obnoxious and bossy; he had the right to complain!

Harry idly wondered how bossy got into Gryffindor; she seemed like the type to read a lot.

At least arrogant was in Slytherin, though if Harry had gone there the blonde would have been dead within the week.

As it was he was already contemplating killing the red head, just to get some damn sleep!

He wondered if anyone would accuse him of murder if he put a pillow over the boy's face?

Harry tried to make himself comfortable, though he was failing badly. He'd now been here a month, and he was sick of it.

To reiterate, the wizarding world was full of fools.

First he had McGonagall telling students their house would be like their family, then blowing that rule out the water by not listening when Harry tried to complain about Snape the git.

She actually tried to make out it was Harry's fault the git was being a horrible teacher!

Then Snape himself, now he was a piece of work.

Harry had prepared for all the classes, and was glad he got that extra potions book as it did indeed go into much greater detail about methods of cutting and why certain ingredients shouldn't be mixed unless you want the potion to go boom.

He even knew the questions Snape fired at him, though that last one was a little tricky. And what did he get in return for reading ahead and ensuring his equipment was ready to go, abuse and harassment.

And complaining, as he found out, got him nowhere. Everything he said went in McGonagall and Dumbledore's ear and out the other. The man was a danger! He didn't teach, and then expected the students to throw together a perfect potion.

And Harry wasn't being biased, this happened in every class. The only students he didn't bully were the Slytherins, and how he managed to overlook some of their glaringly obvious potion mess ups Harry didn't know.

Prick.

Then there was history class, which after day one Harry mentally dubbed it the class he got his homework done in. Seriously having a ghost teach would have been awesome if he hadn't recited the book word for word in the most monotone boring voice Harry had ever heard.

And he'd sat through a year of Mrs Blake in primary school. He thought she was bad.

Defence wasn't much better. Harry wasn't one to make fun of those with disabilities, but that stutter meant no one could understand half the lesson. The class reeked of garlic, which was giving Harry the worst headaches centred on his scar of all things, and the man honestly seemed afraid of his own shadow.

Not defence material.

And astronomy, didn't they have a planetarium or something? Why did they have to have the class at midnight, and expect to be bright and bushy tailed the next day for whatever morning class it was?!

To top it all off, there was something that could lead to "a most painful death" lying in wait on the third floor corridor.

Uh, what the hell?!

Then there was the headmaster. He didn't listen, refused to let Harry speak to whoever was higher than him, and basically acted like a god looking over his little realm.

And as for McGonagall, well Harry could only hope she wasn't shagging the guy otherwise he was sure she'd be disappointed.

Overall, Harry was not fond of this magic school at all. Even learning magic wasn't worth this. Surely there was a better way?

Harry suddenly sat up.

There was a better way. He'd read in the paper that there were tutors available, and he had the money not only to buy his own place but hire said tutors to come teach him.

What was keeping him here?

Harry grinned. That new broom McGonagall force upon him as a bribe to get him into quidditch would come in very handy. Nevermind the fact he actually enjoyed playing the damn sport.

OOO

'Much in the paper Harry?'

Harry threw the rag down with a snort.

'Hardly. Last thing that was interesting was that article about Granger being attacked by the Troll at Halloween'.

He sighed and leaned back on his chair. He may not have liked her, but he was glad she came out mostly unscathed.

She was still at Hogwarts though, which was stupid in Harry's opinion. Who stays after being attacked, especially when there were other magic schools to go to?!

'Ready for this afternoon?'

Harry grinned. Hell yeah he was ready. This time he'd kick the man's arse.

Harry had snuck out of Hogwarts that very night, leaving a formal note of removal on his bed which he worked damn hard on to make it just right.

He would have simply put the words "Fuck Off!" but he was better than that.

Riding like the natural he was, Harry swooped across the grounds until he reached Hogsmeade. There he took the floo, thanking everything holy that he'd read up on how to actually use the thing, to Diagon Alley, and from there he went to Gringotts.

Boy was he glad he asked those questions. Greasing many palms allowed him not only to buy a nice home not too far away, and furnish it, but also to hire the best tutors available to ensure he learned not only what was taught at Hogwarts, but everything else as well, and also remove the trace from his wand, allowing him to do magic without being tracked.

Bloody ministry!

One of his tutors was a surprise and a half. The man called himself Remus Lupin, and while he said nothing about his condition, the goblins told Harry he was a werewolf.

How awesome was that!

Though also quite sad. Lupin couldn't teach around the full moon, which was fine, but he also looked so worn out afterwards.

But what really caught Harry's attention, was that Lupin knew his parents, and couldn't understand why Harry wasn't at Hogwarts, and did Dumbledore know where he was.

Harry had almost thrown the man out. The nerve of him, acting like the headmaster was Harry's parent!

He was glad he didn't throw Lupin out though, it allowed him to rant to someone who actually seemed to listen. And once he was done ranting, he found he actually had the support of an adult.

That had never happened before, completely threw Harry for a loop.

Lupin told him to take all that to the goblins, so Harry did. And boy did that cause some fireworks.

Sure the goblins didn't really care either way, but they were being paid to look into it, and no one could accuse goblins of being inefficient.

What they dug up was by far the most outrageous scandal all centred around Harry.

Starting from the beginning, Harry's parents went into hiding because of the Dark Lord Voldemort, stupid name, hearing about a prophesy that said the child of Lily and James would bring about his downfall. That alone was pathetic, from the little he'd read about prophecies they were really more of a guideline than anything else. And considering this one was made by the batty divination professor he's seen drifting around Hogwarts, well enough said.

So Voldemort, stupid name, is told part of the prophecy by one of his deatheaters, stupid term, and decides he'd heard enough to go after the Potter family.

Naturally the deatheater, stupid term, in question was Severus bloody Snape himself!

And they let that guy teach kids! Fan-bloody-tastic!

Voldemort, stupid name, also managed to find out where the Potter family was hiding. Apparently they had used some old rare spell called the fidilus or something that hid their exact location. Said secret was trusted to a secret keeper, of course, and said secret keeper would be the only one to tell the secret, again of course.

A man called Sirius Black was the Potters secret keeper, except he wasn't. Remus, James and Sirius had a fourth member to their little school boy group, one Peter Pettigrew. And Peter Pettigrew was the real secret keeper.

Oh and he was also a deatheater, stupid term, what do you know.

He told his master, master goes and attacks home, kills parents, and tried to kill son.

Naturally that was when things went to hell. Well, more so than before

For whatever reason, Harry didn't die. For whatever reason, he also landed himself with a bit of Voldemort's, stupid name, soul in his head.

Eww! Eww! Eww!

This was discovered when Harry told Lupin about his scar centred headaches. He didn't want to go to the magic hospital, as that would led to people realising who he was and swarming him, so Lupin told him to go to the goblins instead. More greased palms later found him soul piece free and feeling good.

Well he ached everywhere but compared to having Voldemort's, stupid name, soul in him a little pain wasn't bad.

So anyway master is defeated, somehow, but didn't actually die, due to icky soul piece in scar. Pettigrew was then chased by Sirius who arrived to find friends dead, confronted in the middle of busy muggle street, and then something went boom. Pettigrew escapes minus finger, Sirius is charged with Potter deaths, and thrown into Azkaban without so much as a joke of a trial.

So yeah, that sucked, but more money exchanging hands saw an investigation start. And boy were the goblins like a dog with a bone when they wanted something done. Sirius was given a trial within the month, just to get the little buggers off the minister's back, and lo and behold he was innocent.

Gasp!

After recovering from the dreaded dementors, Harry was treated to a description of the things and that alone made him want to sleep with a night light, Sirius set out to find his long lost godson.

Three guesses who that was and the first two don't count.

A simple note via Hedwig the terror, and Sirius moved in with Harry. Of course that meant so did Remus, but overall it wasn't bad. Remus acted like the responsible adult most of the time, but he also had a cheeky side that Harry loved. And Sirius was a riot; he had so much pranking skills to teach.

Between the two of them Harry found he had no real need for other tutors. Better still, both worked for free. Living with him had its advantages.

By the time Christmas hit Harry was up to speed on everything magical. Of course it was still a backwards society in his opinion, but at least he knew how to keep himself out of trouble.

There was still the issue about a very much alive Voldemort, stupid name, but the goblins assured him they'd take care of it, mumbling about horc something or other and heavy fines regarding some random vault.

Harry could have pissed himself by the grins they gave him. He felt a little sorry for the poor dark sod.

He did stay in touch with some of the people at school, nervous guy, footy guy and future pervert, as well as his former quidditch team mates.

He would miss the sport, and they would miss him. Though he wouldn't miss changing in the same room as the Weasley twins.

Those two were demons, they'd get along great with Sirius.

As for Hogwarts, the goblins had managed to get Madam Bones, who they assured Harry was the best there was, to go there and scrutinise everything. And she brought an army of aurors and government officials. Last he'd heard everything was getting an almost complete overhaul. Teachers fired and hired, classes added and changed. Attitudes assessed and punished. Hehe. And whatever painful death was in that third floor corridor was banished forever.

Harry was impressed; this Madam Bones was one tough cookie. Dumbledore wasn't so happy with the situation though.

Serves the senile coot right.

Speaking of Dumbledore, the man actually had the nerve to try and find Harry, to bring him back! No way in hell!

Harry all but threw money at the goblins to ensure his home couldn't be found by anyone or anything not in the know, and no one could accuse goblins of being inefficient. Albus bloody Dumbledore could shove his scratchy looking beard up his…

'Bring it on squirt!'

'OY! You take that back!'

Laughing Harry ran after Sirius, firing stinging hexes at the man's back as they headed for the training room. The paper lay forgotten, a small article about one professor Quirrell's mysterious disappearance from Hogwarts on show at the bottom of the page.


End file.
